


Let Me Know What Spring Is Like

by 17 pansies (17pansies)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Cap3 - The Hunt for Bucky, First Time, Gratuitous Smut, He can also kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Art, M/M, PWP, Part of something much bigger but as yet unfinished, Steve is Not a Virgin, post-CATWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17pansies/pseuds/17%20pansies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is hurt after he and Steve flush out yet another Hydra base.  Back at the motel, Steve patches him up and Sam lets slip a few things he probably shouldn't.  Steve doesn't appear to mind a great deal.  </p>
<p>Written as part of a much longer, very much unfinished, post-CATWS ensemble fic which I will finish one day, if only to get Clint, Fury, Steve and Phil all on the Bus together.  </p>
<p>Beta'd by the lovely <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/sirona/pseuds/sirona">Sirona</a> and inspired by the delicious art of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/IttyBittyManatee/pseuds/IttyBittyManatee">Marie</a>.  I'd put this on the back burner until Marie showed me her WiP of Steve and Sam, and it was just the push I needed to finish this little bit of smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Know What Spring Is Like

"You reckon if they gave me a pint of your blood, I might get some of those fancy healing powers?" Sam said. He sat heavily on the bed; then, after a moment, gave in to the pull of gravity and tipped over backwards. He couldn't even begin to catalogue the places he hurt. It might be quicker to work out which bits _didn't_ hurt, he decided.

"We can try, next time we find somewhere to get medical supplies." Steve locked the door of the tiny motel room they'd found and pulled the curtains. "Go shower off the worst of it and I'll see what we've got left in our kit."

"Yeah. Five minutes." Sam's eyes were already shut and he really, really didn't want to move. "Make that ten."

"Sam."

Startled, Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t been asleep, really.

"I wasn't," he said, sitting up and rapidly wishing he hadn't.

"Uh-huh." Steve nodded and jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom. "Your turn."

Steve, it appeared, had showered and slipped into grey sweats and a faded Nirvana t-shirt. He must have had a few more than ten minutes.

"I hope you left me some water," he grumbled, struggling to his feet. "Because, god damn, I need a little heat right now."

"It's an electric one, plenty of water. Don't drown!" Steve added as Sam shut the bathroom door. He wobbled for a moment, and made the choice _not_ to lock the door. Just in case Steve needed a drink of water or something.

The water was hot, if a little limp. Sam made a half-hearted effort to get most of the dirt and the blood off himself, but then gave up and stood with his head against the tiled wall, watching the pink swirls as they danced around the plughole before disappearing. Still bleeding after a ten minute nap meant that there was probably something that needed a couple of stitches in it. Not his favourite pastime.

"Hey."

Sam looked up, blinking.

"Do not fall asleep in there," Steve said from the doorway. "I've heard of Hollywood showers, buddy, but I think you need to get out before you shrivel up. You don't look so hot."

"Hey, I always look hot." Sam flailed for a moment until he found the controls and killed the water. Actually, now Steve pointed it out, he was feeling a bit odd. Bracing one hand on the wall, he went to step over the edge of the tub.

With a sickening lurch, his foot slipped and the room spun.

"It's okay, it's okay, I got you."

The next breath Sam drew was pure Steve. Opening his eyes with a groan, he found his face bare inches from Steve's neck and that warm, solid feeling was Steve's chest pressed up close against his own. Sam realised that Steve's arms were the only things between him and the cold, hard tile of the bathroom floor.

"Damn good job I'm so tired, or this could get kinda embarrassing real quick."

"Even when you're so exhausted you can't stand up straight, you can still run that mouth," Steve said, and to Sam's utter mortification, he was scooped up and carried, bridal-style and dripping wet, into the bedroom.

"Not all of us have your kind of refractory period."

Steve actually went red on the tips of his ears, and Sam groaned.

"Ok, buddy, that's a visual I didn't need. At least," he added, his brain-to-mouth filter well and truly offline. "I didn't need it whilst naked because damn, that kind of embarrassment is something I would never live down. Not that I've got anything to be embarrassed about," he continued as Steve dropped him onto the bed. "Oh man, Captain America just put me to bed. Naked. Whilst I was naked. You aren't naked though, are you?"

"You're kind of hilarious like this," Steve said, flipping a towel over Sam's more salient features. "Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Naw, man, I don't even know what I'm thinking. What's coming out of my mouth and what's staying in my head is anyone's damned guess." He watched Steve dig out their depleted first aid kit. "Damn shame you're the one who's dressed in this scenario though."

"Uh-huh."

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" Sam closed his eyes, waiting for the whirling dizziness to either stop, or swallow him and his mortification whole. "Just, knock me out, Rogers. One hit, out cold, save me from myself."

"Nah. This is comedy gold, right here." Steve sat next to him on the bed and pressed something against Sam's side. Sam hissed.

"Ouch, fuck. I'm really happy you're finding amusement in my pain, Cap. I'm about a half pint of blood away from spilling all the tawdry details of my ridiculous unrequited crush on you and all you can do is - ah, fuck fuck fuck, what is that?"

"Alcohol. Whatever ripped through your jacket into your side brought a lot of dirt with it."

"God damn." Sam shuddered. "There may or not be a bullet hole in me somewhere, although, I really can't remember where."

Steve pressed his thumb into a particularly sore patch just above Sam's left elbow and he swore another few times.

"Stitches for that one," Steve said. "And this one. I should really get you to a hospital."

"I told you, Cap. Knock me out." His grasp of things was getting a little tenuous, Sam decided, letting his eyes close. The room was spinning way too much to keep them open.

"Can't do that, Sam. I'm sorry." There was a warm, comforting weight on his forehead. "I couldn't hit you like that."

"Wish you would," he muttered. "Save us both from my mouth."

Steve applied a fresh dollop of something that stung like a fucking son of a bitch and everything got a bit hazy after that.

When Sam woke up the next morning, the sun was streaming in through the gap between the thin curtains and he had one hell of a headache. He was also lying on his side, feeling warm and comfortable and _safe_ , which was something he hadn’t felt in a while. Puzzled, he shut his eyes against the bright light and tried to figure out where he was. Upper New York State, he recalled. Minor HYDRA base on the northern side of the Adirondacks (which was probably still smoking). Tiny motel in bumfuck nowhere. More stinging stitches and aching bruises that he really wanted to think about. And a solid line of heat all the way down his back, with a weight across his middle...

Sam looked down. Draped over his waist was a very white, very muscular arm, dusted with golden hairs and patched here and there with the faded yellow of almost-healed bruises.

"Am I in bed with Captain America?" he said out loud, and the whole bed shook as Steve laughed. The heat behind him moved too and Sam had to realign his thoughts again when the realisation hit that what he could feel was Steve's bare chest pressed up against his back.

"You weren't quite yourself last night," Steve said, his voice sending shivers down Sam's spine. "You didn't want me to leave you on your own."

"Oh man." Sam felt his face heat up and wanted the bed to open up and swallow him whole. "Seriously, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I never meant to dump all that on you."

"Hey." The arm around his waist tightened and Sam became hyperaware of how his ass was snugly settled in the curve of Steve's hips. "Stop. It's okay."

"Is that just okay-okay, sorta, I'll let you off because you were delirious kind of okay? Or is it more of a, yeah, it really _is_ okay because I genuinely don't mind kind of okay?"

"Sam." There was something gentle against the back of his neck and it took a moment for it to register that it was a kiss. "It's okay. Trust me."

"You're on board for this?"

"You have no idea how on board I am," Steve murmured against Sam's ear, voice low, and the shiver that went right down Sam's spine lit up all manner of interesting things on its way.

"But why..."

"Riley." Steve's hand stroked upwards, splaying over Sam's chest. "I didn't want to, you know, step on anyone's toes."

"Even if he's been dead for two years."

"Exactly."

Sam closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Steve's warm palm sliding over his chest.

"Riley and I weren't like that." He felt a lump in his throat and swallowed. "He knew I went both ways, but he was just this dumb ass, straight white boy who didn't give a god damn who I liked to sleep with. He was my best friend. But just my friend."

"You loved him?"

"Yeah." It came out as a breath. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Well, not in that way. We were like brothers, man. And he wasn't my type."

"What is your type?" Another brush of Steve's lips over the nape of his neck.

"Oh, you know. Tall, blond, heroic." He swallowed convulsively as Steve brushed a thumb over his nipple. "The kind that needs saving from himself."

"Don't know what you mean." Steve tucked himself even closer around Sam.

"Oh yeah, yeah you do." He let himself relax back into the offered strength. He thought for a moment, but decided he needed to know. "You and Barnes...?"

Steve sighed.

"Totally unrequited, on my side. Bucky loved the ladies and had different girl every night he went out. I adored him, right from my teens. No idea what he saw in me back then, but we were inseparable. Even after all this, though," the hand on Sam's chest lifted for a moment and Steve waved it around to encompass everything. "I couldn't bring myself to make a move. Just in case."

"Yeah, nothing like awkward declarations of love to make friendships uncomfortable."

"I don't know. I'm feeling pretty comfortable now."

Sam flushed, then suddenly went cold all over.

"I didn't - did I?"

"Well, don't you?"

He groaned.

"Whatever else I said last night, please, spare me the embarrassment of reminding me."

"I liked it, actually. You're pretty easy on the eye, Wilson." Steve's hand slid down Sam's front to rest on his stomach. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"Hell, no!"

Sam shifted his left arm, meaning to cover Steve's hand with his own but hissed at the sudden jolt of pain.

"Fuck," he said with feeling.

"Maybe this isn't the best timing," Steve said. To Sam's alarm, he began to draw away.

"Aw, no, dude, don't you dare, don't you fucking dare back off now." With an effort, he rolled onto his back and looked up into Steve's worried blue eyes. "You do not start something then run off without finishing it. If you get my drift."

Steve was wearing that damn wry grin of his, the one that always made Sam feel warm under the collar even when he was stark naked. He raised an eyebrow and Steve nodded.

"You gotta promise me you won't move," Steve said, smoothing his thumb over the white dressing which covered the stitched up bullet graze just above Sam's elbow. "I think I put about nine stitches in you last night and I don't want you bursting any of them."

"I won't, I promise. I just - would you get down here and kiss me?" It probably came out a little more plaintive than Sam had intended, but the wary concern in Steve's eyes softened into something fonder. "That's if you do that kinda thing."

"What, kiss?" Steve leaned forward, looming over Sam. There may have only been two inches difference in height, but suddenly, Sam felt small and vulnerable in a way he'd not felt in a long time. But not in a bad way. "Yeah, I kiss."

"Nat seemed to have something to say about that." God damn his mouth, Sam thought. Steve stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"Yeah, that probably wasn't my finest moment. She caught me by surprise."

"But you like the ladies too?" Sam thought about the pictures he'd seen of Peggy. She'd been one hell of a woman.

"Of course. But Nat..." Steve shook his head. "I like to know the people I sleep with. I could spend a decade with Nat and still not know who she really is."

"You think she knows?"

Steve caught his lower lip between his teeth as he nodded thoughtfully, and Sam really didn't want to think about how adorable it was. That's Captain god damn America, he thought. Should he be thinking of Captain America as adorable?

"Good point," Steve allowed. He leaned down and brushed his lips over Sam's. Sam absolutely did _not_ make a breathy whine at the contact. "Been a while?" Steve asked, still smirking.

"Will you shut up and get on with it? A brother's gonna die of old age before anything happens round here. We've not all got your stamina."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Steve murmured against his mouth, and then they were kissing, lips moving slickly together and Sam decided he didn't give a damn about any stitches. He lifted his right arm and threaded his fingers through the soft golden hairs at the back of Steve's neck.

Steve made an approving noise, lips parting and Sam took the opportunity to lick into Steve's mouth. Oh man, he thought, feeling Steve's tongue flick against his. That was more like it.

All too soon, though, Steve pulled back. The bastard wasn't even breathing hard. Sam frowned.

"If you think you're stopping there," he began, but Steve placed a finger on his lips.

"Not stopping. Changing tactics."

"Am I going to approve of these tactics or are they going to be more like your regular battle plans when you just do what the hell you like on the spur of the moment and I'm left chasing after your sorry ass?"

Steve looked at him, head tilted to one side. Sam tried to bite his tongue.

"You know, one day I'm going to have to put something in that mouth and see if that shuts you up."

"Fuck yes," Sam said, feeling what was left of his blood pool in his groin. "Yes please, I am so up for that."

"That's not all you're up for."

Sam watched Steve's eyes flick down and grinned.

"Oh, oh you noticed, huh?"

"Hard not to."

Before Sam could come up with some quip, long fingers wrapped around his straining erection and he shuddered, letting his head fall back against the thin pillow.

"That's another way to shut you up then."

"God damn it, Rogers," Sam grumbled, but it came out on a laugh. "You're the one who needs his mouth stopping up."

"Okay."

The hot, wet suction that surrounded him took Sam completely by surprise. Every muscle in his torso jolted at the sensation and he groaned.

"Jesus, fuck," he said, voice wrecked.

Steve, the bastard, hummed a laugh and wrapped his hands firmly over Sam's hips. He slid off with a filthy pop.

"No moving, remember?"

"How am I supposed to remember anything when you're trying to suck my brains out through my dick?" Sam said.

"That was barely the warm-up," Steve said, and Sam took a moment to wonder if he was going to survive this.

Steve, being Steve, brought a single-minded focus to every task he did, and that included rendering Sam a mindless, twitching mess of need. It would have been embarrassing how quickly Steve brought him to the brink if Sam had had enough presence of mind to think about it, but the combination of Steve's hot mouth, his strong tongue - jesus, were all his muscles supersized? - and the way he used his hands to let Sam thrust up in tiny increments into his mouth... _no one_ would be able to last in the face of that kind of assault.

In his defence, it _had_ been a while.

"Jesus, Steve, whoa," he said, trying to grasp a handful of blond hair, but the strands were too short and he ended up just cupping the back of Steve's head. "Wait, wait."

Steve shook his head fractionally. One of the hands holding Sam's hips moved and then strong fingers were rubbing behind Sam's balls, and that was that.

He curled up off the bed with a hoarse cry, the pain of the stitches tugging in his side only accenting the pleasure shuddering through him.

"Okay, jesus, stop, god," he gasped as Steve nursed him through it. That tongue was still curling around him, stroking over the head, and Sam couldn't take any more. "Enough."

Steve pulled off with a chuckle, letting Sam's still twitching dick fall back onto his hip. He deliberately licked his lips and smirked.

"Don't, just - don't." Sam covered his eyes with the back of his forearm. "Oh my god, I... you..."

"So that's what it takes to render you speechless," Steve said, clearly pleased with himself. "I gotta remember that."

He felt like a goldfish someone had flipped out of the bowl and left to lie in the sun. Trying to drag enough air into his lungs past the two cracked ribs was torture, but Sam wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I am never going to be able look at your mouth ever again," he said. "Fuck, Rogers."

Steve's hand was slowly stroking Sam's leg, up over his hip and chest and then down the other side, carefully avoiding the bruises and field dressings. It was soothing, grounding. He could hear Steve's breathing though, and it wasn't as steady as it usually was.

"You need a hand with that?" Sam said, opening one eye.

"No rush," Steve replied. "Whenever you're ready. I know it takes you a while to get your breath back, being such an old guy and all."

"If I had the energy, dude, I'd show you just how damned old I am." With an effort, Sam pushed himself up so he was leaning on his elbows. He looked down the length of Steve's body and whistled. "Super soldier sized everywhere, aren't you?"

"Too much for you?" Steve asked.

"You keep that up, and cracked ribs be damned." Sam sat up, ignoring the tug of stitches. He reached out with his right hand and shoved Steve hard on the shoulder. Steve took the hint and sprawled out on his back.

Do I really get to touch that, Sam thought, eyes roving over the broad, pale expanse of muscular chest. Before he could think himself round in circles, he placed his hand in the centre of Steve's chest and stroked down. Steve shivered.

For long moments, Sam just let his fingers trail across Steve's perfect skin. There were a few faded bruises left from yesterday, but they didn't mar his body so much as accent it. His chest was perfectly smooth and hot to the touch. He was like a furnace, and Sam felt a tug in his belly at the memory of the heat of Steve's mouth.

"You just gonna look?" Steve asked, his voice rough. Sam grinned.

"Hey, no point being that pretty and not getting looked at, is there?" Leaning forward, he fastened his lips around one of Steve's pink nipples and sucked.

"Ungh," Steve said eloquently.

"Yeah, I second that." Sam arched back with a wince. "We'll save that for next time, hmm?" As the words left his mouth, he realised what he'd said and kicked himself mentally. He probably shouldn't be assuming this was going to be a regular thing, as much as he wanted to.

"Next time, yeah, good, can we focus on this time first?" Steve's hips twitched up.

Sam laughed, a wave of relief washing over him.

"Okay, buddy. I'm not good for much right now," he admitted, reaching out to wrap his hand around Steve's considerable girth. "But I can't leave you hanging like that."

"So kind." Steve's eyes fluttered shut as Sam squeezed.

God damn but he wanted to taste that, Sam thought, watching his fist slide up and down, slowly, carefully. He increased the pressure until Steve gave a grunt, hips snapping up.

"That enough?" he asked.

"A little quicker."

Sam complied and Steve began to fuck up into his fist in time with each downward slide.

"You know," he said, eyes fixed on Steve's perfectly proportioned dick. "It's been a long time since I've come across someone who's uncut." He licked his lips.

"Are you seriously going to talk now?" Steve choked out with a half laugh, half groan.

"Yep. Although I could always use my mouth for something else."

"Don't hurt yourself."

Typical heroic god damn crap, Sam thought. Christ, this guy was unreal.

"Shut the hell up," he said, and leaned forward to lick over the tip.

"Fuck," said Steve.

Making Cap swear, must be doing something right, Sam smirked, sucking the top three or four inches into his mouth. It had also been a while since he'd done this, and Steve wasn't exactly small. Instead, Sam took as much as he could in from the angle he lay at, and used his hand around what he couldn't fit in his mouth.

Judging by the increase in profanity, he wasn't doing too bad.

"Fuck, Sam, yes. Be careful," Steve said. Sam pulled off and scowled.

"Will you shut the fuck up and let me do this? Or I could just go grab a shower and get me some breakfast if you'd rather."

Steve actually chuckled.

"Only you could laugh at me whilst I've got your dick in my hand."

"You just going to look at it?"

Fighting down his own laughter, Sam went back to what he'd been doing. It wasn't long before Steve was gasping, growing thicker and heavier on Sam's tongue.

"Okay, okay, Sam, Jesus," Steve tried to warn him. Sam pulled off and grinned, then blew a stream of cool air over the head of Steve's dick. "Holy fuck."

"You gonna come for me, big guy?" Sam asked, working his fist faster now. The angle on his back was killing him but he wasn't going to miss this for the sake of a few bruises. "Come on, give it up, let me watch you."

"Sam..." Steve's breathing was faster, harsher. His eyes were closed, dark golden lashes resting on his flushed cheeks. Every muscle was taut, his sculpted physique turning him to marble under Sam’s hands.

"Damn, you're beautiful," Sam said, mouth working without his permission. "I want to watch you come, see those abs tighten up, watch as you make a mess of that pretty face." He remembered the move Steve had pulled on him, and slid his hand down behind Steve's balls to rub at the smooth strip of skin there. "Come on, Steve, come for me, soldier."

The effect was pretty much instant.

The noise Steve made was half grunt and half cry; he doubled up around Sam's fist as he came hard. Trails of white arced up over his chest, almost hitting his chin as every single muscle was thrown into stark relief.

“God damn,” Sam whispered reverently. His dick gave a sympathetic twitch at the sight. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Steve. Jeez, you should see yourself.”

Steve’s breathing stuttered a couple of times before he opened his eyes. Gradually, he focused on Sam, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, voice wrecked.

Sam shook his head.

“Dumb ass,” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to Steve or himself. He reached over to snag the boxers that Steve had somehow divested him of at one point or another and used them to wipe Steve down, suppressing a wince.

Steve still saw it.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, sitting up, his hand closing over Sam’s. Something in Sam’s chest flipped over at the concern in Steve’s eyes.

“You didn’t. Honestly.” Sam went to shrug then decided against it. “I may have stretched a little too far at one point, but seriously dude, I’m fine.”

Steve looked him over, frowning at each deep purpling bruise, every taped-on square of white. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be bleeding and all his stitches had held, and after a long moment, Steve nodded.

“Two options, then,” he said, letting go of Sam’s hand and cupping the back of his neck instead. “We either go looking for some breakfast, or we grab another couple of hours sleep and do brunch later on.”

“Are those my only options?”

Steve smiled at him, warm and more open than Sam had seen him before.

“They’re the only ones you’re getting right now.”

Who knew when they’d unearth the Winter Soldier, Sam thought, glancing around the tiny motel room. At some point, this stupidly comfortable arrangement would cease to be just them; and he had absolutely no idea how Barnes was going to react when they did run him to ground. So for now, he decided, he was going to take advantage of every moment he had Steve to himself, and selfishness be damned.

“Sleep,” he said, brushing his nose against Steve’s. “Food later.”

“Good call.” Steve angled his head and they came together in a soft kiss, a world away from what Sam had been expecting.

Then again, he thought, letting his eyes close, he’d not exactly expected to be kissing Captain America this morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Fly Me to the Moon by yeah, you guessed it - Marvin Gaye. Sooooo predictable. XD


End file.
